Finding our way to each other
by sookieandsamfan
Summary: Clint and Natasha finally acknowledge they are more than friends


Set after the end of The Avengers movie. Taking lots of liberties with the plot and changes one element. I'm not a Marvel expert by any stretch, but I just recently saw this movie for the first time, and I was inspired to write this story. I see a lot of potential in a love story between Clint and Natasha, and I sure hope they explore that in the sequel. It's clear they care about each other deeply. In my story they are all staying at Stark Tower the night after they get home from having dinner together. Hope you enjoy it. I own nothing.

_*In the movie right after Clint wakes up himself again, no longer under Loki's spell. A different take on what might have been said."_

"You're a spy, not a solider," Clint said to Natasha. "Why the sudden need to wage a war? What did Loki do to you?" He paused waiting for her to answer. When still silence, he said her name, "Natasha," compelling her to be honest with him. He knew his partner well enough to know something was weighing on her mind.

"He tried to take you from me," she answered honestly and sincerely looking into his eyes. The admission surprised them both, and they both paused simply staring at each other. Clint could barely register what she has said because he was so shocked by it. The woman he knew had never said something so real and vulnerable. He wanted to say something back, but he couldn't find the words. The air was thick with so much more to say as they continued to look in each other's eyes. Just as he was about to form a coherent response, Steve knocked on the door and entered to go through the next phase of the game plan. Whatever brewing moment had passed, and it was time for battle.

_*Much later that night_

A smile spread across Clint's face as he heard the lightest of knocks on the door of the guest bedroom he was staying in. A thoughtful knock - light enough that he would certainly hear it if he were awake, but likely not loud enough to rouse him from sleep. He knew it could only be one person – Natasha. He crossed the room quickly and opened the door. She was standing there smiling at him. In the sarcastic tone he's come to know and love, she said, "You'd think saving the world would be exhausting, but I can't seem to sleep, you?" Clint chuckled, "Me either. Hard to turn your brain off after something like that. Come on in."

She walked in past him and he shut the door behind them. When he turned around he could see that she was scoping out the details of his room – habit for anyone in their profession in case there was a need to make a quick getaway or find something to use as a weapon. He took notice of what she was wearing. A light pink tank top with a pair of long gray sleep pants with thin matching pink pinstripes. As she made her 360 examination of the room, she turned back to him to meet his eyes, and he gave her a bemused smile. "What?" she said. "Nothing," he responded. "I'm just not sure I've ever seen you in anything but the color black." She looked down to examine her outfit and laughed. "I know, but I didn't exactly have an overnight bag with me. Pepper let me borrow these. Silly right?" "No," he answered too quickly. What he wanted to say was she looked beautiful. And, she did. In a different world, she could have been the girl next door, lounging in PJs normal women buy from Target. Of course, she was anything but normal. She was a deadly and talented assassin – one of many reasons he admired and respected her so much. He quickly recovered and instead said sarcastically, "You look like a sweet college girl or something." She rolled her eyes and they both laughed.

"Anyways," she changed the subject. "What are you doing?" "Just watching some stupid TV show," he answered. "Mostly for the noise. Want to join me? We can look for a movie or something" "Sure," she said and took a seat on the end of his bed. The whole exchange was so odd for them. It had been a long time since they'd had time to sit and watch TV at all, let alone think about having time to watch a movie. It was nice. Soon enough, there would no doubt be more monsters to face – maybe magical, maybe human. But tonight, they really could just relax and be "normal." The TV had all the bells and whistles you'd expect for the home of Tony Stark. "I think every movie ever made is on here," Clint noted as he scrolled through the options – at this point still standing as he pointed the remote towards the TV. "What kind of movies do you like?" he followed up looking back at her. She was still perched on the edge of his bed dangling her bare feet and running her toes through the soft carpet. She laughed, "I don't know," she said honestly. "I can't even remember the last time I watched a movie." "I know what you mean," Clint said as he went back to the task at hand. "How about this?" he asked landing on a comedy. "Mindless fun?" "Sounds perfect," she replied.

He queued up the movie then placed the remote on the nightstand, then propped up some pillows against the headboard and settled onto the bed. As he looked down towards Natasha, he noticed she was ever so slightly rolling her neck from side to side. He had watched her closely many times over the years of their partnership, and while no one else would have noticed the slight movement, he knew it meant she was in pain. "What's wrong," he asked her. "Oh nothing," she said looking back at. "The best fighter I know kicked my ass less than 24 hours ago, and I think it's starting to set in," she laughed. Clint laughed too. "Sorry about that," he said. "I would never hurt you on purpose." He said the last part a little too seriously and they locked eyes. Before things got too awkward he followed up with, "Let me make it up to you." He patted the space on the bed in front of his lap. "If you're impressed with my assassin skills, just wait until you have one of my shoulder rubs," he said winking at her.

"Oh no," she said. "That's okay. You don't have to do that." "You don't want me to?" he asked with exaggerated hurt clasping his hand over his heart. "No, it's not that," she responded laughing. "It's just we're both pretty beat up. I don't think you should be dishing out TLC. You should rest," she finished. Clint rolled his eyes. "Natasha, a, I offered, and b, I fully expect you to return the favor," he said grinning. "Now, come here," he said the last sentence emphatically and again patted the space in front of him. She shook her head slightly, but she was smiling and he knew he had convinced her. "Fine," she said. "I guess that sounds fair." She crawled up the bed towards him, and settled in front of his lap crossing her legs. His legs were stretched out on either side of her. Clint reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. The moment he closed his grasp and dug his fingers gently but firmly into her shoulders, she let out a groan and hung her head. She cleared her throat to try and hide it, but Clint smiled knowing she was a bit embarrassed. It was so funny – she was a deadly assassin, but he'd seen this side of her before. She was often shy and unsure of herself. He couldn't imagine why. She was the most beautiful and sexiest women he'd ever seen. He was one to talk though. In truth, he was shy and awkward around her a lot – as if he were some 15 year-old-boy.

For a while, they simply watched the movie, laughing occasionally at the silly jokes, as he kneaded the soreness out of her shoulders. Natasha wasn't used to being pampered in any way, and it felt amazing. Not to mention, Clint's hands on her felt amazing. This ordeal had finally put her face to face with a fact she'd known for a while but never been forced to admit. She had meant what she said to Loki about love being for children, but she knew she cared about Clint as much more than a friend. She had so much as told him so earlier in a moment of pure honesty and vulnerability, giving him a window to show her he felt the same way. He hadn't though, and that was okay. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. She'd been friends with him for years and would absolutely settle for having him in her life as her partner. She trusted him above anyone else, and that was enough even it he didn't return her feelings.

Once her shoulders were knot-free, Clint started moving his hands lower down her back, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down her spine. She was putty in his hands right now, and he loved it. Finally, she broke the silence. "Why have you never done this before?" she said sighing in pleasure. Clint smiled. "Well, you never asked, and you hardly ever let your guard down enough for me to have ever known before that you might have sore muscles." "Well, this is mandatory now after every fight, okay?" she said. "Deal," he responded. He could think of worse things than giving Natasha multiple massages. As he reached her lower back, she leaned even further forward stretching her arms out in front of her. Her tank top rode up just enough from the top of her pants that his fingers touched her skin. "Mmm," she let a moan escape and took a deep breath. Her skin was on fire from his touch, and Clint realized he was enjoying this a little too much. He sat up a little straighter and scooted back just enough from her to make sure she couldn't detect his budding arousal.

"This might be better than sex," she joked after a few more minutes. "Well, you haven't had sex with me," he responded quickly joking back - letting the words slip out before he could take them back. They were met with silence. It was the type of exchange they'd had a million times during their partnership. They always joked and teased each other, but for some reason, things were different. Well, not for some reason. They both knew the reason. Natasha's words earlier that night had changed their relationship. Suddenly a joke about having sex wasn't just a joke. It was filled with an underlying feeling that maybe their relationship could eventually become more intimate. Finally, it was Natasha who came to the rescue eliminating what had become a pink elephant in the room. "Well, I refuse to accept that since your hand is the only thing that could vouch for that," she quipped. They both laughed. He loved the way she could deliver lines like that with similar amounts of venom and silliness. Her sarcasm gave them the perfect excuse to just move on. Natasha let him massage her back for a few more minutes until she honestly felt completely relaxed. She scooted away from him out of his reach. His hands immediately felt empty and sad. He had enjoyed touching her as much as she had. She turned to look at him, "your turn," she said. "I was just teasing you about that," Clint responded. "I know, but I'm happy to return the favor. I know you got your ass kicked by the best fighter you know too," she teased obviously referring to herself. "Well, if you insist," he said. "I do," she replied. "Now lie on your stomach. I won't be able to see the movie if I sit behind you."

Clint gladly honored her request - flattening out onto his stomach with his arms folded under his chin. It felt so good to stretch out. Natasha repositioned herself to straddle him sitting back on his lower back. Clint was glad his stomach was pressed into the bed. "Is this okay?" she asked. "Absolutely," he answered. She barely weighed anything, and it felt great to have her perched there. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and starting walking her fingers around his shoulders looking for tense spots. It felt amazing. She stumbled upon a knot and started applying firm pressure to work it out. Clint groaned and had to let his head drop onto the bed. "And, I thought I was good at this," he said. "Well, you often over exaggerate your abilities," she retorted. He just laughed. Clint lost total interest in the movie. He turned his head to the side resting in on the bed, closing his eyes, and let his arms stretch out more in front of him. As he repositioned his arm, Natasha noticed a pretty bad bite mark she knew she was responsible for from their earlier fight. She reached up his arm and ran her fingers lightly across it causing Clint to take in a deep breath as she touched him skin on skin. "Does this hurt much?" she asked him. "I'm sure you've figured out that I'm responsible."

Clint chuckled lightly. "Yes, biting is one of your more effective fighting techniques," he said. "Sorry you had to use it on me, but I understand, of course." Natasha was silent lost in thought. They were joking well enough about it, but the truth was that she hated they had fought. They had always been such trusted allies – fighting on the same side against their enemies. Sure, they had sparred a bunch of times during training, but they had never actually had to fight each other for real. Sensing the shift in mood, Clint rolled a bit onto his side so he could look up at her. With his free hand, he grasped the hand she was still resting on his forearm. "Natasha, I'm so sorry that I hurt you, and I don't blame you at all for anything that happened. It wasn't me. I was fighting with myself to try and get back you to, but I couldn't. Quite frankly, I'm just thrilled you didn't kill me. I wouldn't have blamed you for that either." It was something along the lines of what he should have said earlier when she admitted she was worried about losing him. Things were getting too serious, he thought. "I would have haunted you from the grave though," he said lightening the mood. She finally laughed. "Please," she jested back. "I'm too scary even for a ghost." She went back to the task at hand, moving her strong fingers across Clint's back. He was in absolute heaven.

As she worked her way down to his lower back she could feel him almost melting into the bed beneath them. How long had it been since either one of them had let someone get this close? As she grazed a bare patch of skin where his shirt had ridden up with her bare hands – really more with her nails – he sighed deeply. It was music to her ears – much like his admission that he was fighting to get back to her. She sure hadn't hated hearing that.

She had mostly worked out his knots at this point anyways, so she bravely changed her technique. She slipped her hands further up his back under his shirt dragging her nails to scratch more than rub his back. He sighed again very deeply. "Don't hate me if I fall asleep," he said quietly, and she could tell he was smiling. She smiled too. "You can take this off if you want," she said raising her fingertips against his shirt and stating it as nonchalantly as she could manage knowing the ulterior motives in her head and heart. She had seen Clint without his shirt on more times than she could count – in training, when he got dirty and needed to change, when they had stayed with a group of folks on a mission. She had noticed long ago that he was extremely easy on the eyes, but now, being here, close to him, safe for the night, touching him...it was an option she wanted to explore. "You sure?" he asked and immediately regretted it. Natasha was not some silly teenage girl. She wouldn't have suggested if she minded. The thing was, he felt like a silly teenage boy. He had been through more than most people could ever imagine, and he was certainly no virgin, but here, now, with Natasha simply scratching his back he was feeling so incredibly relaxed and turned on all at the same time. Her touch was something he had been longing to feel for some time – he had just never allowed himself to admit it. Love in this kind of work was dangerous; they were partners, a romance could ruin everything. Or, it could make everything make sense. "Sure," she answered his question pulling him out of his reverie.

She moved off him for a moment so he could sit up enough to shed his shirt. He threw it to the floor then lay back down. She perched back on top of him and began lightly running her nails across his skin starting near his neck. "Mmm," he groaned. "That feels amazing." She didn't know what to say back, so she answered with her actions. She kept scratching his back, up and down in long striations, letting her hands linger up into his neck slightly into his hair. His back was covered in scars from years of battles. Some scratches from knives, a few bullet holes and grazes, and other injuries from who knows what. She had some similar markings, but not quite to the same extent. He'd been through so much. Natasha continued to scratch and rub his back until the movie credits rolled. They were both no longer paying attention, but the ending music pulled them both back to reality. Natasha glanced at the clock. It was nearly 2 a.m. As much as she hated to admit it, they both needed sleep. It had been a long few days. She gently climbed off of Clint and hopped off the bed onto the floor. Clint felt like butter from her touch, but he managed to get up and retrieved his shirt from the floor slipping it back on.

"Well," she said. "Thanks for letting me hang out for a bit. I guess we should actually try to get some sleep." "Guess so," Clint responded. She moved toward the door. What was he doing, he thought to himself. No part of him wanted her to leave. He was a grown man capable of killing someone with his bare hands, but here, now, he felt completely unsure of himself and out of his league with her. As she reached for the door, he knew it was almost too late. "Natasha," he said quickly. She turned back to him with a questioning look. He had nothing to say. He decided it was now or never, so he closed the space between them and pulled her into a kiss. It wasn't often she was caught off guard, but he completely floored her. She was stunned for all of a few seconds though and immediately threw her arms around his neck and passionately returned his kiss.

It was a romance movie kind of moment – sparks, fireworks, the whole nine yards. She was glad as he backed her up against the door, which they had been standing quite close to. She needed the stability. Her knees were about to give out. The kiss was steamy and strong. Her closed eyes rolled back into her head as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Finally, after a few more minutes they had to come up for air. Clint rested his forehead against Natasha's and both breathed heavily. They opened their eyes at virtually the same moment and pulled apart just enough to look at each other. She was searching his eyes waiting for him to say something. He didn't know what to say. Options ran through his mind, "Was that okay?" No – too juvenile. "I love you." No – while possibly true, way too early and serious. "I've wanted to do that for a long time." That could work. It was true, but it still didn't quite capture what he wanted to say. Finally he settled on, "Stay with me." Perfect. It was a statement and a question all in one and captured the exact emotion of the moment. She smiled up at him and simply said, "Okay," pulling him back into another kiss. After that, not many words were needed. They somehow managed their way back to bed – lights were dimmed, clothes were shed, and they spent the next hour certainly not resting. It was fun and natural – and very clear that they had both been wanting and needed this for a long time. Their hands and mouths were everywhere, and when they finally connected it was as if nothing else in the world mattered.

When they had both reached an amazing release, Clint gently rolled off Natasha. They both lay on their back catching their breath. He wasn't sure what to do. She didn't exactly seem like the cuddling type, but he had a strong desire to hold her. Fortunately, she made the next move, nestling her head on his shoulder putting her arm around his waist. He quickly embraced her tightly before she changed her mind. "You were right," she said. "About what?" Clint asked shockingly. She hated admitting he was right. "Sex with you is better than a massage," she said smiling up at him. "Just barely though." He laughed and pulled her close kissing her forehead. They lay quietly for a few minutes, and Clint felt the need to say something. He had to say it. "Natasha," he said quietly. "Hmmm," she answered. He could tell she was about to fall asleep. "It meant a lot to me what you said about not wanting to lose me." He felt her smile against his chest. "And, I just wanted you to know that as long as I'm breathing I'll find my way back to you. I promise." She looked up and him and kissed him softly. It may have well have been "I love you." It was exactly what Natasha needed and wanted to hear. They fell asleep in each other's arms. Who knew what tomorrow might hold, but they would face it together no matter what. Things could get complicated with their relationship, but they had been in this together for a long time now. Things were different now. They both had even more to fight for – and they knew it would be enough to help them face whatever lurked around the corner.

*Hope you liked it. Happy Valentines Day. Reviews welcome.


End file.
